Second Chances
by Caroline
Summary: [Hodgela, hints of BB] SPOILERS for 'The Skull in the Desert.' Angela returns home with Booth and Brennan after their case, wanting to be alone, but finding herself with unexpected company.
1. Move Me

TITLE: Second Chances  
SPOILERS: "The Skull in the Desert"

* * *

"Would you like us to drop you off at your place, Ange?"

Angela Montenegro turned weary eyes toward her best friend, Temperance Brennan, and her partner, Seeley Booth, who were standing side-by-side in front of her at the baggage claim at Dulles. She shook her head and replied somberly, "No, I'll just go wherever you guys are going."

"Well..." Booth exchanged a look with Brennan. "We were going back to the lab. Paperwork and tying up loose ends with the case and all."

"Then I'll go to the lab with you."

Brennan stepped forward and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder supportively. "Are you sure you don't just want to rest, Ange? It's been a stressful trip for you."

Angela closed her eyes to get a grip on her rising anger and managed to reply softly, but shakily, "It's fine. I'll just go back with you."

She glanced up to see Booth touching his partner's arm, pulling her back. "We'll just take her to the lab with us, Bones. It's what she wants." He then nodded toward the exits with their luggage in his hands. "This way."

Booth and Brennan took the lead and Angela lagged behind, her heart sinking when she watched Booth's hand float instinctively to the small of Brennan's back. She closed her eyes again. Kirk used to do the exact same thing to her. It was times like this that it _really_ killed her how perfect her friends were for each other.

* * *

She was silent in the backseat all the way back to the lab. She could tell, from glancing in the rearview mirror, that Brennan noticed her silence. But she also noticed that whenever she was about to comment on it, Booth would give her a look and a slight shake of his head and she would keep quiet. Angela sighed every time this happened. Silent communication. Another plus of being with Kirk.

She had berated herself since he'd gone missing. She should have said _this_ at this time, she should have done _this_... she should have married him. That was the most prominent thought in her head.

However, if she _had_ married him, would things have turned out any differently? She was a big believer in Fate -- the idea that everything happened for a reason and nothing can be done to change it. And she wanted to believe what Brennan had told her -- that no event is unique, and that she would get a second chance. The problem was... Kirk _was_ unique.

He let her lean on him, though she really didn't have a reason to. He could keep up with her level of playful banter and gave as good as he got. He was protective when he needed to be and let her have her independence when she wanted it. In short, he was the perfect guy, the 'Booth to her Brennan' as she used to like thinking of it.

She climbed out of the car when Booth parked in front of the Jeffersonian, not waiting for him to open her door for her or offer to carry her bags. It might kill her if he did. Chivalry was dead to most, but not to Booth, or Kirk. She didn't need any more reminders of Kirk today.

"Angela," Booth spoke up, predictably, upon shutting the driver's side door. "Do you want me to--"

"No, I got it." She gave him a tight smile, one which she knew was not hiding anything. "Thanks."

Once inside, Brennan gave her one last glance before nudging Booth toward her office. Angela sighed and watched them go, not missing how Brennan's hand lingered on his arm. She was happy to see that her friend was becoming more affectionate with her partner. Things between them really _had_ changed since Booth had been blown up and Brennan had nearly been killed. They at least got pushed a little closer together.

Angela took a long look around the Jeffersonian's Medico-Legal Lab, finding that, now that she was immersed in familiar surroundings, the incident with Kirk felt far-off and hazy... like a bad dream.

She made her way slowly toward her office, not spotting her usual two colleagues anywhere in sight. Hodgins was probably off cavorting with bugs and slime, and Zack was probably building another robot. She couldn't help but smile at that last thought, able to picture perfectly the boyish look of concentration Zack would get whenever he was trying to make something. Like a cute kid brother, she mused.

Angela sighed and pushed her office door open, kicking it again when it began to swing shut on her as she was still grappling with her bags. Once inside, she gasped at the pair of clear blue eyes to fill her line of vision. "What are you doing in here?"

Jack Hodgins rose from his spot on her couch, going over to help her with her bags despite her insistence that she could handle it. "I, uh... uh, Brennan called from the airport..."

Angela made a face -- when had she missed that? -- and tried to take her bags away from Hodgins. When he wouldn't let her carry them anymore, she tilted her head, wanting him to understand how much the uncharacteristically-chivalrous gesture was really hurting her.

"And I uh, I just wanted to... whoops!" He fumbled with her carry-on duffel bag for a moment before recovering and tossing it onto the couch. "Hope you didn't have any glassware in there. Anyway, I just wanted to see how... you were doing."

When he spun and she met his eyes, Angela sighed and closed her own. She'd never been shy about admitting to her infatuation with Hodgins' eyes, and currently those eyes were looking right through her. "I'm fine."

"No you're not. And that's Brennan's line. You can't use that."

She rolled her eyes. "Look, I really need to get some work done today, so would you please leave?"

"Brennan's making you work after what happened? Geez, she really _is_ a slave-driver."

"_She's_ not making me work, _I_ just wanted to come back here."

"Why? Shouldn't you be, y'know... taking time off? Resting?"

Angela raised her eyebrows. "'Resting?'" she balked. "I'm not an invalid, Jack."

He nodded, blinking those clear blue eyes slowly. "I'm aware of that. But you lost somebody that you care about, and throwing yourself into your work isn't the answer."

She rolled her eyes again. "Right, and you know what the answer is?"

"Yes. Go home." He gestured toward the luggage now strewn on her couch. "I'll toss those in my trunk and I'll drive you home. You really shouldn't be here."

"First of all, you barely _have_ a trunk in that little wind-up toy you call a car. Second of all..." She felt her voice falter slightly and she stopped, taking a moment to swallow and blink the emotion away.

Hodgins just egged her on with a knowing grin, raising his brows. "Second of all...?"

"Just leave." She reached for his shoulders and grasped them tightly, attempting to shove him toward her door.

He didn't move; just stood with his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his face taunting her. She huffed impatiently. "Hodgins, get out of here!"

"Or what? You'll kick my ass?" He chuckled. "Baby, I'd have you pinned to the door before you could even lift a finger."

Ignoring the brief electric wave that imagery sent through her, she shoved him again. "Get OUT, Jack! I'm in no mood to deal with this right now!"

But he still didn't budge. "Move me, and I'll go."

Angela met his eyes, searching them for ulterior motives, but she came up with nothing. So she shoved again. She pushed. She dug her nails into his biceps and leaned her weight against him while stepping with her feet. They ended up just sliding in place across the tile, and he still hadn't moved. She tried again and slipped -- this time, he caught her and held her up. "Angela."

She sighed in frustration and lifted her eyes to his. They held her gaze and for a moment she got lost. The blues were knowing, sympathetic, cajoling... a million things at once. And she crumbled.

She sunk against him, bursting into tears, wrapping her arms tight around his shoulders. Hodgins held her up, twining one arm around her waist while the other slid through her hair and down her back, comforting. While she cried, he whispered inane things in her ear, words of solace that he knew mattered not, but he still felt the need to whisper them.

And Angela, for once, let herself cling to someone, lean on someone. She buried her face in his neck and wept... for Kirk, for herself, for the life and love that she would never know now that it was too late.

Moments later, she had composed herself enough to pull away, but only just enough to meet his eyes. Hodgins still hadn't relinquished his grip on her waist, and she didn't exactly mind. "Take me home, Jack," she murmured tearfully, tremulously.

Hodgins nodded and hugged her again, "Yeah, okay," before pulling away and gesturing her to sit in the chair behind her desk. "I'll go tell Brennan."

* * *

**_Love it? Hate it? Think I should continue? And, if you answered 'yes' to the last one... any ideas for where I should take it? I'm always open to suggestion. ;)_**


	2. Stay Awhile

TITLE: Second Chances  
CHAPTER TWO: Stay Awhile  
SPOILERS: "The Skull in the Desert"  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This wasn't proofread particularly well by me seeing as how I was excited to get another chapter up, so apologies for any and all typos. Hopefully they won't distract from the Hodgela-ness ;)

* * *

Hodgins and Angela were silent on the way to her apartment. She had turned her face toward the window and leaned her head on the passenger seat while Hodgins stared straight ahead, pretending to focus on his driving -- though really he was thinking of her. When they pulled up to her building, he finally spoke. "Alright, here we are. Need me to carry you up?" A smirk curled his lips and he turned to look at her.

She was fast asleep, curled against the passenger seat with dried tear tracks on her face. Hodgins smiled sympathetically -- even a bit lovingly as no one was around to see him do this -- before he shook his head and restarted the car. Without knowing where her key was, or without knowing her security code, he had no way of getting her to her apartment without waking her. And he knew she needed her rest, as she probably hadn't gotten any while Kirk was missing.

So he took her back to his mansion, bypassing the garage as well as the tennis courts and the pond, pulling up to the main house instead. He cut the engine and jumped out as quietly as he could, jogging up the steps to punch in his security code and open the front door before going back for Angela. He opened the passenger door and considered his options -- he could wake her regretfully, or...

"I got it," he whispered to himself while carefully reaching across her to unbuckle her seatbelt.

He stealthily slid one arm under her knees while wrapping the other around her back, scooping her out of the car. She stirred, but only slightly, and buried her face in his neck while she draped her arms around his shoulders. After carefully kicking the passenger door shut with his foot, he carried her up the front steps and through the open front door, deciding to leave her bags in the car for the time-being.

Hodgins nodded a greeting at his housekeeper, who was wearing a surprised expression while eyeing the woman in his arms. He smiled sheepishly. "My friend, Angela," he explained.

The short, salt-and-pepper-haired woman smiled widely. "Are you sure she's not more than a friend, Jackie?"

He chuckled. "It's a long story, Rosalie. For right now, I have to get her up to the master bedroom so she can rest."

She nodded. "As you wish." As she headed out of the room, she gave him a wink. "But I'll be pressing for details later."

He chuckled once more. "You got it."

* * *

Angela blinked slowly, trying to assimilate herself to the unfamiliar surroundings. She reached up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, looking around for a clock as she wondered how long she'd been out. The digital alarm clock on the nearby mahogany nightstand displayed a garish red 4:38, and Angela groaned, flopping back against the plush pillows as she wondered just where the hell she was.

The last thing she remembered was Hodgins agreeing to drive her home after she'd struggled with him, and then cried all over him, in her office. Just a few minutes after they'd pulled out of the parking structure at the Jeffersonian, however, it went hazy.

And now she found herself on her back on a king-sized, four-poster mahogany bed, staring up at a canopy that could only be classified as a mixture of the colors champagne and gold. She looked down and found the satin sheets to be the same color. She frowned to herself again and her eyes panned around the room -- the warm tones of the walls, the extravagant fixtures -- and she gasped when she looked to the left and saw the beautiful balcony beyond opened French doors, complete with brick-red Mexican tile and high, adobe-looking walls rimmed by wrought iron.

Angela sat up and made her way toward the glass doors, inhaling deeply when the spring breeze caressed her and ruffled the champagne-colored curtains. She stepped out onto the balcony and took a look around, unable to stop her eyes from widening at the sight.

Below her was a beautiful sparkling pool with an infinity edge that looked out upon the foliage beyond the house -- mansion, she silently amended. Mansion.

And then she suddenly knew where she was. Her suspicions were confirmed when, just as she moved to turn around, his voice behind her made her jump. "Hey."

She spun on her heel and met Hodgins' eyes, slightly amused that they were watching her hair flick around her shoulders. "Hi."

His blue eyes raised to hers, assessing her silently before he asked, "Sleep well?"

Angela nodded, and rubbed the back of her neck -- a nervous habit. "Yeah. Yeah, I did." She averted her eyes to the Mexican tile beneath her feet briefly, her brain still a little fuzzy as she asked, "Um, what... exactly... am I doing here?"

"Oh." He exhaled a chuckle and displayed two perfectly-aligned rows of white teeth as he did so. "Sorry. I uh, I brought you here. I didn't want to wake you at your place to ask for your keys."

"Oh," she echoed his previous statement, wondering absently when the sight of his smile started to do things to her stomach. "Thanks. You really didn't have to do that. I wouldn't have hit you or anything for waking me up."

"I know, but... you needed your sleep."

Memories of his incessant badgering in her office came back to her, and she rolled her eyes. Moment over, she brushed past him to go back into the bedroom. "I told you, I'm not an invalid."

"I'm still well aware of that," he intoned in an almost patronizing fashion. "But I'm also aware of the fact that, knowing you, you probably haven't slept more than a few hours in the past several days."

Angela stopped at the bed, her back still turned to her companion. It struck her that she'd never realized before how well he knew her at times. "I should probably get home, Jack." She turned to face him again, putting on a brave smile that she didn't feel past her lips. "I really appreciate you allowing me to nap here for a bit."

"Actually, dinner's almost ready. I was thinking you could stay while longer, if that's alright with you."

She drew in a deep breath through her nose and sighed it out. "Look... I know you're trying to help, but I really--"

"Would you stay if I promised not to bug you about... y'know...?" Hodgins tilted his head side to side in a silent indication that there was more to his sentence he'd rather leave unsaid.

Angela saw the look in his eyes and recognized it as being very near to desperation... but about what? And she nodded. "Sure. I'll stay."

* * *

TBC

* * *

_MORE AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to all those that reviewed the first chapter, whether you wanted a continuation or not -- the muse seemed to want a continuation. And thanks to those that left suggestions on where to go with it -- you've all seemed to come to a consensus as far as pacing goes, and I'm right there with you ;) _

To SleepDeprived07 goes a special thank you (and a couple shirtless Hodginses) for constant muse-stimulation and always witty banter :D


	3. Somebody Special

TITLE: Second Chances  
SPOILERS: "The Skull in the Desert"

* * *

"How was it?" Hodgins asked, grinning when he saw her set her fork down on her empty plate. "Awful, I'm guessing?"

She smiled over at him. "It was great, but now I'm not going to be able to move for a week."

He shook his head. "Not allowed. If you can't move, you'll sink right to the bottom of the pool."

Angela raised her eyebrows, and tossed a furtive glance through the glass doors in the dining room toward the infinity pool. "You're joking, right? It's late March, Hodgins. I'm not going swimming in March."

His own brows flicked upward in response. "Ah, but I have a state-of-the-art heating system installed, so while it's in the low fifties everywhere else, the pool is a comfy eighty degrees. And, if you're still cold, there's always the hot tub."

"I don't have a swimsuit."

Hodgins bit back the comment he could have easily made in response, remembering the ordeal she'd just been through. She was in no mood for flirting, he figured. So instead, he stuttered a reply. "Uh, well, I have plenty of spare swimsuits in one of the guest rooms. I'm sure one of them would fit you."

"Wow."

He met her eyes. "What?"

She smiled, fingering the rim of her wine glass before finishing the last sip. "No leering, or lewd comments in response. And I even baited you. I'm surprised."

"You were hoping I'd say something back?"

She chuckled softly to herself. "Well, that's just the way we do it, you and me. I say something, you find a way to make it dirty, and then I threaten you with bodily harm."

"I see." He finished his last bite of food and set his fork down, peering up at her through his lashes. "So that's all I'm good for? Dirty jokes?"

Angela tilted her head and gave him her trademark dimpled smile -- the very same one that secretly sent his heart thudding tachycardic. "You know you're good for more than that, Jack."

"Oh yeah?" It was him baiting her now, as he smirked at her over his wine glass.

"Of course. But," she began to push her chair back, "I really can't impose on you any longer. I should get home and let you get back to doing..." She grinned. "Whatever it is that you do here."

"Uh, or!" His chair skidded harshly on the tile as he abruptly stood. "Or, uh... you could, y'know..." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged one shoulder. "Or you could impose."

Angela furrowed her eyebrows. "Hodgins, are you okay?"

"Yeah." He nodded emphatically, his hands now on his hips. "Yeah, yeah I am. Why?"

She chuckled. "Because you're not blinking."

He made a point of blinking, twice. "There. Blinked. All better. You should stay, Angela."

Her brows flicked upward -- that desperation was back in his eyes. "Ookay... for how long?"

He shrugged. "As long as you want. Doesn't matter to me."

"Sounds like it does, a little bit."

Hodgins bypassed that comment, averting his eyes as he gestured toward the doorway. "The, uh, swimsuits are in the guest room upstairs, second door to your right."

Angela nodded slowly. "Okay... thanks. I'll go change."

* * *

The guest room was bigger than Angela had imagined. Another four-poster mahogany bed stood tall in the middle of the room, this one queen-sized, and it was accompanied by a waist-high mirrored dresser and two armoires. There was no balcony in this room, though to one side there was a bay window overlooking the lush backyard.

Angela pulled open one of the drawers of the armoire and began to rummage through the swimsuits. Most looked to be swim trunks, or -- she chuckled at this -- speedos. After going through three drawers, she still hadn't found a single woman's bathing suit, and was about to give up and yell down to Hodgins, when a voice to her left drew her attention.

"Need some help, dear?"

She looked up to see a petite, salt-and-pepper-haired woman in the doorway, lips curled in an expression of amusement. Angela smiled back. "I, uh... I'm having some trouble finding a swimsuit."

The woman nodded knowingly and stepped into the room. "Jackie doesn't exactly keep this room organized." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Rosalie, Jackie's housekeeper."

Angela shook the older woman's hand and smiled warmly. "I'm Angela... Montenegro. Jack's friend."

Rosalie nodded. "Mm-hmm, and a good one, apparently."

Angela raised her eyebrow at this, her eyes following the short woman as she made her way toward a walk-in closet. "How's that?"

Rosalie shrugged and threw open the closet doors. "Well, you're the first woman he's brought to the house."

Angela made a face, still half-heartedly rummaging through the armoire. "That... can't be right. I thought Jack was--"

"A serial dater?" Rosalie finished, turning over her shoulder to smile at Angela. "That he is. But not once has he brought a woman back here with him."

This piqued Angela's interest, and she followed Rosalie into the walk-in closet as the older woman continued. "He considers this place his sanctuary. I think on a few occasions he's even referred to it as his 'fortress of solitude.'" She shook her head. "I'm assuming that's some sort of cinematic reference."

Angela chuckled, being reminded of Brennan in that instant. "Yeah, it is."

"He doesn't want anybody to invade his private life, so he never has anybody over to the house. Not even that nice young man that lives above the garage." She shrugged. "I suppose he just figures if he doesn't let anybody see this side of him, he can't get hurt."

Angela pointed into one of the armoir drawers. "What about all the spare swimsuits?"

Another shrug rolled the petite woman's shoulders. "Probably just a way to help him pretend he's more sociable than he really is."

This comment, for some reason, seared Angela's heart. "So I'm..."

Rosalie nodded and continued picking through the clothing on the racks. "The only one that's seen the inside of this house, yes. Aside from Roger -- that's Jackie's chef -- and myself." Her eyes lit up as she reached a particular piece of clothing, and she grabbed it. "Ah, here we go, dear. I think this will suit you just fine... no pun intended."

Angela smiled at the older woman, before her eyes settled on the item in front of her. The bikini was a gorgeous blend of maroon, black, and gold... and Angela knew, without even trying it on, that it would fit her perfectly.

"Jackie picked that out just last week," Rosalie said, as if reading Angela's thoughts. "Wanted me to hide it in the closet because it was for someone special. When I saw him bring you in earlier..." She trailed off, though the end of her sentence was obvious.

The corner of Angela's mouth quirked in a half-smile, one dimple indenting her cheek. "Thank you, Rosalie."

"You're welcome, dear. And oh, this will go with it nicely, too." She reached back into the closet and pulled out a black sarong. With a wink and a smile then, Rosalie bustled out of the room and left Angela to change.

Angela chuckled at the older woman's exit, and shook her head while looking down at the swimsuit and sarong, musing aloud to herself, "I'll be damned, I'm somebody special."

* * *

TBC

* * *


End file.
